


personal jesus (i'll make you a believer)

by ssalemghostss



Category: Reylo - Fandom
Genre: Birth Control, Catholicism, F/M, Father Ren - Freeform, Ficlet, Insemination, Kinky, NSFW, Oral Sex, Priest Kink, Priest Kylo Ren, Religion, Reylo - Freeform, Secret Sex, Sex in a Church, Smut, confession box smut, i'll continue to tag as i go, it's gonna be pretty vanilla stuff y'all, no babies up in here y'all, priestlo, reylo au, reylo smut, we don't have the time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssalemghostss/pseuds/ssalemghostss
Summary: “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep myself from you, Rey.”She inclined her chin and attempted to beckon to him with her eyes, for she wanted him so desperately she thought that maybe he could see it in her face.“Are you afraid of that?”“Perhaps. A little.”“You needn’t be. I’m not afraid.”“What are you, then?”“Exhilarated. Eager. Maybe a little sinful…but aren’t we all in some way, Father?”





	1. part i

**Author's Note:**

> Listen..... ...I've been writing my modern au/slow burn WIP "lie to me" pretty exclusively and I just can't handle the sexual frustration between these two anymore!!! So one day I was listening to Personal Jesus and before I knew what was happening I was writing priestlo smut. It was like a blur; I don't know what happened, I swear. 
> 
> So, because of that, here we are. I wrote this little three-now-four part ficlet, and now you're about to read it. We're in this together now.
> 
> Huge thank you to Jess/SaintHeretical for beta’ing! She made this so much better!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Feeling unknown  
And you're all alone  
Flesh and bone  
By the telephone  
Lift up the receiver  
I'll make you a believer

 

I will deliver  
You know I'm a forgiver   
Reach out and touch faith 

 

***

 

The candles surrounding the altar had burned long and low that night. Beeswax, blessed and holy, pooled upon the sacred table in red and white swirls of whispered prayer, and dripped down the sturdy oaken legs. Many of these candles had just recently been placed and lit, after evening mass. But that had ended many hours ago.

            Now there were but two souls left in that holy church, apart from that of Christ, but the Savior was going unheeded that night. Ignored and flagrantly disrespected, in His own house of worship. Those other two souls were far too engrossed in their own form of sacrament to acknowledge it.

            Down the aisle and out into the darkened corridors and antechambers of the church, they could be heard, praying to their own gods. They prayed partially out of fear, but they asked for forgiveness, for understanding; and then they begged for love, for worship, for _more_. More, more, _more_ –

            “More…p-please, Father…”

            The back wall of the ancient confessional box rattled loudly, and the screws holding it in place squeaked at the friction of the trembling wood. Past the burgundy velvet curtain and cramped into the small space, they prayed as one body. One soul, half a former exorcist turned local priest; half a lost, lonely woman named Rey.

            The beads of his onyx rosary dug into Rey’s throat as his grip there tightened per her gasping request. She couldn’t be sure, but she believed it was about twenty Hail Marys pressing into the sides of her neck. The crucifix beat a steady beat between her bare breasts in time with his urgent, satisfying thrusts, which were quickly growing deeper and deeper still.

            Rey opened her eyes for a moment and found him looking down at her. Those deep brown eyes of his, the colour of sunlight shimmering through dark whiskey, were more full of emotion than she had ever seen them before. The dark and shadowy curtains of his nightmarish past which normally cloaked his gaze had fallen away and bared the soul of the man within.

            His thick, dark hair, normally combed so nicely away from his face, had cascaded over his noble forehead. His high cheekbones were flushed with lively colour and his lips, so full and tempting, were parted ever so slightly. They beckoned to her, as they had every day for the last six months. If they were the forbidden fruit, his searching gaze, and the way it lingered upon her always for just one second too long, was the snake within the garden, enticing her to take just one, innocent bite. And she, much like Eve, felt blissfully hopeless against the promising lure of unrestrained pleasure.

            With one well-aimed thrust, he had her arching her back in a wave of pleasure. One of her hands flew away from his now loosened collar and her nails raked down the sides of the confessional interior.

            _“Ahn—!”_ she moaned, gasping, and her thighs tightened significantly around his hips. “Ye-esss… _ohh-h_ , please don’t stop…!”

            The release of so many pent-up emotions even evoked a few breathless moans from Father Ren. His lips descended to her jaw and the underside of it, where the tip of his tongue could taste the saltiness of her dampened skin. He could feel her tightening all around him, ensconcing him within her, and he happily made a home for himself there. He choked on a curse word as he spilled into her, hands gripping her sides, broad shoulders bumping into the walls of the confessional.

            After a brief, trembling pause, he removed himself from her and she felt the warm wetness of his seed spill out of her in his absence. The two caught their breath while they were still huddled together, secluded in the box. He allowed her to comb her fingers through his hair and brush it away from his face. Her fingertips were cool, and it felt incredibly calming as they ran repeatedly over his temples.

            After a little time had passed, she cradled one side of his face in her palm and inclined her chin as though to kiss him, when suddenly she paused. The look on his face was not one that necessarily invited an intimate touch.

            He looked frightened. His eyes were wide, pupils constricted, and his skin tone was more pallid than usual. Very quickly after that he stood and wiped the remnants of her from his mouth. He fixed his pants and buckled his belt, then exited the confessional as though he couldn’t possibly stand one more second inside of it.

            Rey, completely befuddled and offended by this sudden change in atmosphere, quickly fixed her dress and followed behind him. By the time she reached him he was nearly at the other end of the hall, pacing rapidly from left to right as he straightened his collar like it was the one last thing which could guarantee him a pass into Heaven.

            “Father Ren…?” Rey called out, and her voice echoed in the space between them. “Are you alright?”

            He stopped in the middle of the hall, and snapped his gaze in her direction. His eyes were cold, and hard. The curtains of darkness had returned to them.

            “You need to leave,” he said, in that commanding voice of his. “It’s late, and I…have much yet to do. Please, see yourself out.”

            With that, he disappeared up a staircase and was gone, leaving Rey all alone in the large, empty church, with nothing but Christ watching over her and the concoction of their affair slowly running down her inner thigh.

 

**

 

            Six months ago, Father Ren had joined the St. Mary’s Catholic Church. Initially, no one in the small suburban parish knew anything about him; there were no clues as to where he had come from, what he had done, or who he really was. It was like he had simply drifted into town one night upon a lonely breeze, and had somehow stumbled into the church, where he had begrudgingly gone under the wing of one Father Thomas.

            Indeed, right from the beginning Father Ren had the appearance of one whose body was present but whose mind was very clearly elsewhere. Some of the parishioners gossiped about their concerns quite openly after services. What kind of priest could he be to them, if he could barely keep his eyes trained on the sacrament?

            Only Rey had noticed those wandering eyes and actually managed to catch them.

            The first time she caught him looking at her, it had been a regular daily mass, not unlike any other. Rey had just begun to attend church again, after several years of abstaining from religion. Eventually, she had just begun to feel so lost, she ran out of places she felt like she could turn to. At the time she wasn’t even sure if it was actually helping, but she had found herself to be so intrigued by the new, young priest that she kept coming back, if only just to see him. There had been something about him that attracted her; something dark and mysterious and confusing.

            As everyone sang _Gloria in Excelsis_ together, their angelic voices soaring up to the vaulted ceilings of the church, that was when their eyes locked. Much to Rey’s astonishment, Father Ren held her stare. She didn’t know exactly why – perhaps it was the stereotypes of the ordained priest which tricked her mind – but she had expected him to look away, scorned by her female gaze. But he looked on, unabashed, out from his place in the shadows of the ambo, straight out at her where she stood in the third row on the left.

His stare was intense, the likes of which Rey had never experienced before. She could feel the heat which quickly flushed her cheeks, and she stumbled over the words of the hymn, something that she felt he noticed, as his dark eyebrows raised infinitesimally.

            “Thou that takest away the sins of the – of the world, have mercy upon us,” she sang, pausing to catch the breath which had caught in her chest. “...the sins of the world, receive our prayer.”

            Her heart had raced against the restraints of her ribcage when she saw it: his lower lip quivered as the congregation swept into the next verse and a muscle jumped in his jaw. His hands gripped the hymnal a little tighter.

            He kept his eyes faithfully trained on her, unable to look away, until the hymn ended. Then something came over him. It was like he switched completely; he reverted back into this holy character he had made for himself, as easily as a snail retreating into the false safety of its breakable shell. He attended to Father Thomas and performed his religious duties smoothly and without instruction.

            But after that moment, Rey had been unable to look away. He commanded her every attention. She only half-listened to Father Thomas as he performed the liturgy; she only mumbled her way through the Lord’s Prayer. But all the while she was waiting to catch his eye again, or to see that muscle tense in his cheek one more time.

            This didn’t happen again that day. He avoided her gaze after that quite on purpose, despite how effortless it appeared. But Rey could have sworn she saw his hands tremble as he poured the communion wine.

           

*

 

            When the parishioners found out Father Ren had been a formally-trained exorcist before being excommunicated from the Order – for reasons still unknown to anyone but he – before he arrived at St. Mary’s, the public opinion of him reached an all-time low. Now people associated him with filth and darkness. What kind of priest could he be to them, when he himself danced with demons all over the world? They even brought into question Father Thomas’s morals, for it had been he who had insisted on bringing Father Ren into his church with the goal of making him his successor.

            But it only made him more interesting to Rey. He had scars, and he had stories, and she wanted to see them, hear them; she wanted to _experience_ him. She had so many questions she was afraid she may just blurt one out during mass.

            The most infuriating part was that he didn’t allow himself to look at her, or be close to her, for nearly three months after their first encounter. Rey had gone through many different stages of emotion over this, including anger, sadness, and flippancy. In the end, though, she supposed she could see things from his point of view. She couldn’t deny that when they had found each other’s eyes across the crowd that day, a sinful feeling had saturated her body. Heat had built up around the collar of her blouse. Her palms had become clammy in an instant. Her thighs had trembled ever so slightly, and a delirious warmth had begun to blossom deep inside of her, awakened by the implications of his scorching stare.

            He was a priest, scars or no. He had certain rites and traditions to uphold, even though he did not appear to be of the utterly traditional sort. There were particular criteria he had to meet to be at his station. If he gave in to that lustful temptation he risked losing everything he had worked for. She could understand that. She wasn’t worth all that trouble, and she was positive he felt the same.

            That is, she _did_ think that, until one particular evening mass when the congregation had been especially small.

            He had had nowhere else to look. There weren’t enough parishioners in attendance to warrant him focusing his attentions on others. When the time came to perform the Eucharist, Father Thomas had Ren pass out the body of Christ. Most took the body in their palms, but some had the priest place it directly upon their tongues. Rey normally took it in her palms.

            Not this time.

            She was the last in line to receive the Holy Communion. As she stepped up to the altar their eyes connected for the first time in months. That same feeling returned, faster and stronger than before. Slowly, Rey kneeled before him, bowing her head in reverence. His eyes followed her, hypnotized, as she gradually straightened her back.

            He held the communion wafer aloft between his thumb and index finger.

            “The body of Christ,” he said quietly, and the low, sensual register of his voice made her pulse spike.

            “Amen.”

            She parted her lips gratefully and stuck her tongue out just a little, keeping her stare pointed up to his face, registering his every micro-expression.

            Shock. Amusement. Intrigue. Desire. Not a single hint of revulsion, regret, or horror.

            Delicately, he placed the wafer upon her tongue. The light pressure of his finger lingered for only a second too long on her tongue, and she could feel his fingertips curling under her chin, stroking her there with the gentlest touch. Her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth did, and the wafer melted upon her tongue as she melted at his touch, brief though it may have been.

            Normally the Eucharist left Rey feeling comforted, but this time all she felt was a renewed hunger, for another body. She wanted to feel something else melt upon her tongue. She had a feeling, judging by the look on Father Ren’s face, that he thought the same.

He next offered her the cup which contained blood of Christ. She allowed him to tip its contents into her waiting mouth. His gaze fell to her throat as she swallowed it, savouring it. The tart dryness of the wine nipped her throat on the way down, but she didn’t mind. He continued to watch hungrily as she licked a droplet of it from her upper lip.

Once the service had ended, Rey gathered her jacket from the coat hangers near the vestibule, her confidence quite renewed after her intense meeting with Father Ren. She was so deep in thought about it all that she was very surprised when she felt someone tap on her shoulder. Turning, she was even _more_ surprised to see Father Ren standing before her.

“Father!” she exclaimed loudly.

He smiled cheekily at her, but made no comment about her awkward greeting.

“Hello,” he said, bowing his head. “The Lord be with you.”

“And also with you,” she repeated, copying his bow though her heart was racing. “What can I do for you, Father?”

His eyes darted left to right, as though making sure no one was within earshot of them. They were in the clear, but even so, he spoke quietly, and only to her.

Rey noticed very quickly that he stood much closer to her than any other priest ever had.

“Earlier, when you received the sacraments, I felt something pass through me and I do not think I can ignore it,” he explained.

Rey didn’t know what to think, much less what to say. Perhaps foolishly, she blurted out half-sarcastically, “Oh, do you think it was the Lord?”

He blinked and then chuckled, and Rey decided instantly that she loved that sound.

“No, I have to believe it was not,” He smirked. “It was…something else.”

She nodded, recovering from her minor blunder.

“Yes, I felt it too.”

“You did?” He looked surprised at this. “Good, excellent…then, I was wondering, would you be interested in, ah – discussing it further? In my office?”

Rey’s entire face lit up and before she knew what was happening she was nodding eagerly. As she followed Father Ren to the back of the church, carefully avoiding anyone’s eye whilst trying to look perfectly innocent and casual, she only hoped this meant what she hoped it meant. If it didn’t, she thought she may just burst at the seams.

_Oh, Father, my soul may be weak, but my flesh is very willing…_


	2. part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just sex. you're welcome.

_thank you to @empirex1020 on tumblr for the immaculate priest!kylo manip!_

 

 

“Please, take a seat.”

Rey did as instructed and came to rest upon an old wooden high-backed chair with a handmade cushion on the seat. She jumped a little with excitement when she heard him close the door behind her.

The old floorboards creaked as he walked over to where she sat before his desk. Every heavy footfall made her pulse race faster. He walked around his desk and stood behind his own leather chair, refusing to sit down. Those hypnotic eyes travelled over her, never once leaving her body.

Rey could scarcely believe she was _alone_ with him.

“You’ve taken me entirely by surprise,” he announced. “It’s highly unusual for me to feel this rattled by someone I hardly know.”

“You’re rattled?” Rey asked. “You hide it well.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Believe me, it is taking every ounce of strength I have to not give in to my carnal urges…”

“Ah, you’re still resisting,” She smiled slowly. “I stopped doing that quite a while ago.”

He seemed mildly taken aback by this, but in a good way. His stare somehow turned darker, and she watched with satisfaction as his fingers tightened upon the back of his chair.

“Did you? And, how have you found it?”

“Incredibly liberating,” she purred.

He smiled somewhat bashfully and shook his head before running his long fingers through his hair.

“I never expected to – I just don’t understand why I feel this…this _compulsion_ to break rules,” he explained. “Not that I haven’t broken them before, it’s just…You’re beautiful, but I am not blind to beauty in all its forms. Yet there’s just something about you I can’t ignore, and I don’t even know your name…”

“Rey,” she whispered. “My name is Rey.”

“Rey…” He tested it on his tongue.

“I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep myself from you, Rey.”

She inclined her chin and attempted to beckon to him with her eyes, for she wanted him so desperately she thought that maybe he could see it in her face.

“Are you afraid of that?”

“Perhaps. A little.”

“You needn’t be. I’m not afraid.”

“What are you, then?”

“Exhilarated. Eager. Maybe a little sinful…but aren’t we all in some way, Father?”

He grinned and walked around his desk until he was standing a mere couple of feet away from her chair. She breathed him in and he smelled like clean laundry and old books. It was intoxicating.

“You make a good point,” he complimented. “You would have us give in to these temptations? You would have us sin in the face of God?”

“God knows we aren’t without our vices,” she preached seductively. “Is it even a sin if it’s so naturally beautiful?”

“Hmm…”

Rey could take the banter no longer. It was only prolonging the inevitable, and she couldn’t wait one more second. With deft fingers she undid the metal buckle of his black leather belt. She got the button of his pants open and had the zipper tab between her fingers when his hands upon her wrist stopped her, and she looked up at him.

“Here? In a church?” he asked, faking astonishment to poorly hide his amusement.

“Would you prefer I stop?” she asked. The palm of her other hand massaged him through his pants and she smiled upon feeling her undeniable victory. “It doesn’t feel like you want me to…”

“ _Ah_ …you are very persuasive, aren’t you?”

He let go of her hand and she quickly continued her work. He took a step closer to make it easier for her.

Very quickly she realized she may need to use both hands to keep him properly satisfied.

He was warm to the touch and surprisingly stiff already. But after all, he had said he’d been struggling to restrain himself…

She parted her lips and the tip of her tongue just grazed the head of his cock when he stopped her once again with a gentle finger under her chin.

“Kneel,” he requested, “on the floor.”

She slipped out of the chair and onto her knees in one fluid movement, never releasing her gentle hold on him. She cast her gaze upwards to meet his one more time, deciding not to voice the implied prayer comment, and then picked up where she had left off.

He felt so impossibly _good_ in her mouth. She liked him there. She liked the feeling of control; the power and self-confidence which swelled each time she heard his breath hitch, or felt his grip in her hair falter. She found herself idly wondering how anyone could deprive themselves of such incredible freedom and passion, when it felt so amazing to give in. What could be so wrong about something that makes life so much easier to live?

Slowly, she pulled back a ways, and allowed her tongue to cradle him. She heard a deep but warm groan from above as her lips ran over the curve of his head.

“Look at me,” he commanded, coaxing his fingers through her hair, drawing her closer again. “I want to see the lust in your eyes.”

She raised her eyes up to his face, half-darkened in the shadows of the room, and felt a familiar fire surge deep inside of her as she saw him look unflinchingly back at her.

“Mmm…” she purred, taking as much of him in as she could before slowly releasing him, making extra sure not to break eye contact once. She wanted him desperately, and if he wanted the proof, she would show it to him.

“Do you think there is a demon in me, Father?” she whispered, drawing a line with her tongue up the underside of his cock, rising slightly on her knees to reach the tip.

“Ahh…no. A demon would never want to make a human feel this good,” he answered. His head lolled back and his lips parted, but no sound escaped his mouth, although his eyes were squeezed tight shut.

Rey chuckled lightly and, still looking up at him, cradled his balls in her palm whilst her other hand danced up and down the length of his member. His grip in her hair tightened significantly, enough to make her gently moan.

“I can make you feel even better than this,” she promised in a low whisper. “And I think you could do the same for me.”

He relaxed only slightly and looked back down at her with a new urgency upon his face. For a split second, Rey wasn’t sure he was going to say yes. He almost had the appearance of a revelation, and she couldn’t be sure if it was good or bad. But then he helped her stand and held her fast to him, so that she could feel the heat of his body through his black cotton button-down. The hardness of the crucifix he wore on a long chain about his neck pressed against her bosom, and his own physical stiffness against her belly.

“I need to have you,” he said huskily. “I can’t wait one second longer.”

“One second would be too many,” she agreed in haste.

In one quick motion, he had pushed a small stack of papers off his desk and helped her to sit atop it. His palm was warm upon the bare flesh of her outer thighs as he pushed up the skirt of her church dress. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him as close as possible.

            His hungry stare fell to her wanton mouth, and he bowed his head forward gradually, silently asking her permission first. But he needn’t have asked. She leaned toward him and closed the gap to press her lips to his.

            His mouth was soft and his kisses careful, at first. But all it took was a coaxing, playful flick from the tip of her tongue against his bottom lip, and then he kissed her harder, and deeper. She sighed into him and drew her fingers through the roots of his tousled hair, holding him near.

            With one hand he examined the wetness between her thighs. As his index and middle fingers ran a slow, firm line down her centre, she softly moaned. She thought she had understood how desperately she wanted him, but it wasn’t until he was finally touching her _there_ that it struck her.

            She had severely underestimated herself.

            Acting almost entirely on impulse, she captured his lower lip between her teeth and drew them across it, only letting go when she had tugged just enough on his lip to really have caught his attention. It was a little trick she knew of which ended up working surprisingly well on Father Ren.

            Almost roughly, he pulled aside the crotch of her panties and replaced the fabric with the warm flesh of his cock, the sensation of which made her squirm with anticipation. His forehead pressed delicately to hers, he rubbed himself against her slowly, perhaps to tease her, or maybe himself. But Heaven help her, she was already so weakened by her desire for him, she couldn’t take it one moment longer.

            He had paused, just briefly, at her opening, and applied extra pressure before his breath hitched and he ran his length over her once more. She extended a hand down between them and caught his cock in her palm, making his eyes widen ever so slightly. She repositioned it back to where it was, and looked sweetly at him.

            “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, coaxing him inside with gentle pressure from her fingers. _“Ahhhh....”_

            He slipped into her inch by delicious inch until he had filled her with himself and she could no longer discern where her body ended and his began. She trembled against him and tightened her thighs around his hips, nearly biting a hole through her lip to keep her excited whimpering at a low volume.

His fingers clawed their way slowly down her back, and he looked at her with such amazement in his dreamy eyes that Rey thought she may have broken him. But there was hesitation there, too. That crease between his brows was almost too pronounced.

Gently, she rocked against him, and allowed her warm breath to travel across his parted lips.

“Kiss me, Father,” she requested softly.

He did more than just kiss her. Her words were apparently all he needed to break free of whatever convictions were holding him back. His mouth held firm to hers, kissing her over and over again in a flurry of passionate _need_. His teeth bared down upon her lower lip, catching it, raking over it, pulling it, almost to the point of pain but never past the line of pleasure. Her mouth opened for him and the sensation of his tongue running smoothly against hers made her head feel fuzzy. She was experiencing so many different, incredible things at once that it was overwhelming; simply due to the mere coaxing of his tongue dancing along her lip combined with his hand which had tangled itself in the hair at the back of her head, she found herself wanting to let go. An out-of-body experience called to her, like a bright flare of light in the near distance.

She gasped, and grabbed his shirt front with trembling fists, barely holding herself together. His thrusts were slow and careful still as he tested her waters, but each one felt like a battering ram upon her doors, and her defences were severely weakened.

He must have felt her struggle, too, for he stopped suddenly, forcing her to halt as well. She yelped in response to this and pulled hard on the front of his shirt, straining the buttons upon it.

“P-please…” she begged, and her voice crackled and broke. “Please don’t stop…I c-can’t… _oh, Father, please!_ ”

“Shh,” He hushed, leaning down and covering her mouth with the palm of his hand. His eyes tore deep, dark holes into hers as he bent his head, so close to hers that she could feel the ends of his hair tickling her forehead.

“Someone might hear you,” he warned in a low, hurried voice. “We can’t have that, can we?”

Rey whimpered, the sound muffled by Ren’s hand, and shook her head ‘no’.

“No, we can’t,” Ren agreed, mimicking her gesture. “Now, you beautiful girl…are you going to come?”

“Mmph-hum,” Rey nodded urgently and wiggled her hips side-to-side, which made Ren pull breath in through his teeth quite sharply. It was a stupid thing to do, though; it only made it harder on herself, to feel him still there inside of her, resting just on the precipice of her orgasm, teasing her.

“Are you trying your hardest not to?”

Again, she nodded.

“Good,” he purred, kissing her forehead. “Because when you do come, you need to be very quiet. Do you think you can do that?”

Rey groaned and shook her head. There was no way. Absolutely not.

“Oh, that wasn’t the answer I wanted…” Ren replied.

He began to pull back, and in turn pull himself out of her, leaving only an inch or two inside. Rey uttered a protesting cry from behind his hand and tried to tighten her legs around him. He barely hid a smirk in response to her efforts. That full, weighty feeling she had felt before, which had brought her so _close_ , slowly faded away to only a dull, throbbing background pleasure, like a beautiful memory. But she wanted it back. For that small moment in time, she couldn’t remember who she had been without it.

“Well, then…does this mean you promise to be quiet?”

She nodded vigorously. She’d never had someone stop her mid-intercourse to instruct her before, and while normally she wouldn’t be much of a fan of such a thing, there was something in the way Ren did it that was working wonders on her. Perhaps it was the fact that, although he was saying all of these things, even though he was withholding her orgasm from her, it still didn’t overshadow the fact that he, too, was breathless, with a wild, passionate look in his eyes. He was just as close as she was. He was teasing himself just as much as, if not _more_ than, he was teasing her.

“Good,” he said, leaning over her once more, “because this is a place of _worship_.”

To emphasize his point, he filled her once more, burying himself deep within her walls as he spoke his final word; hitting her _just there_ , so that she cried out and arched her back, and her fingernails raked fine lines down his forearms. Keeping his hand over her mouth, he was able to muffle her moans as the waves of pleasure crashed over her, but she wasn’t the only one who made noise.

Father Ren emitted one breathy, unbridled moan before biting down on his own lip to quiet himself. His hand fell away from her lips. She could feel him spilling into her, but it was of no concern. She had taken the appropriate precautions for a young lady to take. She realized, too, that they would not have the time to go again that day. This had been their one and only chance, however brief it may have been. So she held him fast to her, and placed kisses upon the side of his throat.

He was not embarrassed, if he had much of a reason to be. He allowed her to hold him for a few minutes, and he let himself get caught up in the scent of her, so that he may remember it later when she was not around. But he did not let it last long, despite what she may have wanted.

He pulled out of her and watched with satisfaction as a white bead of ejaculate gathered at her opening. Then he fixed her underwear, and ran his thumb up the strip of fabric, along the path of her slit, applying gentle pressure.

 _“Mmm…”_ Rey purred, stretching her arms atop his desk. She didn’t care about the mess it would make. There was something about it that thrilled her, actually. She would have to walk through the church halls and down the front steps, with their sinful little secret held carefully between her legs.

She sat up once his touch left her, and fixed the rest of her clothes. Just as she was moving the clasp of her necklace back to where it belonged, he caught her chin betwixt his fingers and held her gaze steady.

“I need to have you again,” he whispered urgently. “Once was not enough for me. Twice won’t be either. Ten times won’t even do.”

Rey chuckled and lifted her captured chin, beckoning to him for a kiss, which he reactively gave her.

“I have to agree,” she said. “Perhaps, we should have these private meetings on a more regular basis? I am, as you well know, a prolific sinner.”

He smirked at her as he tightened his belt around his hips.

“Yes, well. I’m professionally trained in prolific sinners,” he said lightheartedly. “I believe I’m more than qualified to help with your unique situation.”

“Thank you ever so much, Father Ren,” Rey said, her voice a low, dusky flirtation. “I do hope I don’t bring you down with me.”

“Corruption,” He grinned, “often goes hand-in-hand with religion.”

“So says you,” Rey teased. “You are, without a doubt, the most corrupt priest I have ever met.”

“Mm, you don’t need to flatter me. I’m already more than happy to fuck you.” He smiled a cocky smile, and Rey couldn’t resist smiling back at him.

“I need to go; duty calls,” he sighed and straightened his collar before bending down to her eye level. “I want you to walk out of here, and feel that wetness between your legs, reminding you of what we did here. And don’t you dare let one drop of my come slip down your leg.”

Rey raised her eyebrows at his low, commanding tone. It was incredibly attractive, and impossible to ignore, but she could be cocky, too. Cocky, and naturally curious about how far she could test the libido of a former exorcist turned small town priest.

“How would you know if I did?” she asked brazenly.

Father Ren smiled slowly, the outer corners of his shining eyes creasing attractively.

“You’ll confess it to me,” he answered simply, “and to God.”

Rey was slightly taken aback by this. God didn’t need to know about that! But, then again, shouldn’t He already know?

Father Ren noticed her surprised reaction and took complete advantage of it; he got closer to her, close enough that his whisper was a warm temptation upon her cheek.

“I’ll take you to the confessional,” he explained, “and you’ll confess to Him that you let me come inside of you.”

Rey’s breath hitched. The thought thrilled her and frightened her at the same time.

“And I’ll ask you if you would let me do it again, with God as your witness,” He placed a delicate kiss upon her cheek, which made anticipatory gooseflesh prickle down her arms.

“I-I don’t think I could do that,” she stammered, her voice surprisingly quiet, even to her own ears.

“Do what? Confess your sins or let me come inside of you?”

She looked him in the eye. “Confess.”

“Ah,” He nodded and gave her a warm, encouraging smile. “Maybe one day, then.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she finally stood on her own two feet. He paused to admire her, his eyes lingering on the space just below her hips, a cheeky smile slowly fading from his mouth as he lost himself in thought for a split second. Then, he crossed to the door and opened it, gesturing for her to exit first, in true gentlemanly fashion.

Rey had to stifle a giggle at the thought as she walked past him; the electric pulse of desire crackled between them and raised the hairs on the backs of their necks.

 _Gentlemanly,_ she laughed in spite of herself. _He’s a gentleman, alright. He may just be Lucifer, too, dressed in sheep’s clothing. Even the Devil was a beautiful angel, once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now, let's all get ourselves to a church, shall we?
> 
> just joshin' ya. unless you really feel like you need to. just, uh, when you go, if you confess, drop my ao3 link to the good ol' priest, would ya? ;)
> 
> i know their sex was incredibly short - but i couldn't resist. THEY WERE PRESSED FOR TIME, OKAY. the lord's will is never done, etc. etc. let me assure you, part iii will be LONGER. SMUTTIER. and WAAAYYYYY more self-indulgent than necessary. so. stay tuned. please.
> 
> on a more serious note, thank you for the overwhelming support, you dirty devils! i could be remembering wrong, but i don't think i've ever struck 100+ kudos on a fic (short OR long) after only one chapter. maybe that says something about me, or maybe it says something about the lot of you (wink wink nudge nudge), i have no idea. but let's embrace it together, yeah? really, thank you. ❤
> 
> ummm. you can find me on tumblr @reylo-solo, or on twitter @reyloghosts. i sin on those accounts sometimes, too.


	3. part iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part of the story where I tell you that what I initially thought would be a three-part ficlet has turned into a four-part ficlet. 
> 
> so stay tuned, my dudes

 

 

_act i: the confessional_

 

Church is a sanctuary. A safe place, where anyone is welcome, any time. So why was Rey sitting on a bench outside St. Mary’s, alone and at night, too nervous to go inside?

There was one reason, and it had a name. A lovely name. A name which had ensnared Rey’s mind and charmed the darkest parts of herself. If she was being completely honest, it was a name she’d cried out in her sleep and one which she had muttered into her wine glass after three trips to the bottle. A very lovely name.

_Father Kylo Ren._

Just the thought of his dark, commanding stare, the kind which made her feel completely naked even when she wasn’t, made her clench her thighs together. She chewed upon her lower lip and twisted her hands this way and that in her lap. 

She had lied to herself. There was one more reason why she was on that bench late at night, dressed the way she was, in a stunningly lustful red  hooded cape, with a white, silky dress hidden beneath. That reason was to blame for her even being there in the first place. 

It was her own bravery.

She had known for a few days now that Father Ren was in the confessional tonight. Upon learning this information, a wicked idea had crossed her mind, one which she was quite certain he wouldn’t be expecting. She had talked herself in circles about whether or not she should actually go through with it. Even when she’d been at home, putting on the dress and applying her berry-coloured lipstick, she had thought, _maybe not_. And yet, there she was anyway. Only now she was actually nervous.

What if he didn’t like it? What if it crossed a line? After all, the last time she’d gone to Mass, he had barely made eye contact with her and immediately after the service had darted off, following close behind Father Thomas. It had worried her, a little. Had she done something wrong? Was he in trouble? How could she ever find out, if he kept avoiding her like that? 

So, she had decided to not give him the option to run away. If he was in the confessional, he had to listen to her sins. He couldn’t just get up and leave, or pretend to not even see her. She would get what she came for, one way or the other.

Her heart raced inside her chest as she pulled the heavy oak door of the church open. A warm burst of air hit her and she felt the soft silk of her dress cling tighter to her breasts. She should feel sinful, walking into a church dressed like that, but she felt the exact opposite.

She felt powerful. 

The hallway leading to the confessional box was empty and filled with dark shadows. Her footsteps echoed up the walls on either side of her. 

She paused before the confessional and imagined him inside, completely unsuspecting. Had he been thinking of her; waiting for her to come to him? Whether or not he had been, she was done waiting for him.

She took one final, slow breath, and released it slowly. She dipped her fingers in the water dish and diligently made the Sign of the Cross. When she touched her fingertips to her mouth, she was smirking. 

She stepped into the confessional, with its narrow wooden bench padded in red velvet, and breathed in its woody fragrance. With her hood still up over her head, she sat down.

Through the intricate wooden lattice panel, she could see his profile, cast in fine golden light which trickled in through slots in the top of the box. His eyes were downcast; those long, black eyelashes throwing shadows over the high curvature of his cheekbones. His raven hair had been combed and tailored to perfection, falling in thick, tumultuous curls over his temple and spilling over his collar at the back of his neck. 

Oh, how she would have liked to be kissing that neck, just there, beneath the dip of his jaw. Where she could take a pause, for just a moment, to gently nip at his earlobe. 

_Not just yet._

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” she said in a clear, sultry voice. “It has been two years since my last confession.” 

She watched, with immense satisfaction, out of the corner of her eye as his head instantly shot up upon recognition of her voice. His jaw dropped, and for a moment it looked as though his lips were forming her name, but he made no sound.

“I have felt more inclined to sin in these last few months,” she confessed, slowly drawing her hood down and exposing her soft, curled hair. 

“Temptation has overcome me, time and time again, and I’m afraid I do not know how to put an end to it; I do not know if I want to.”

Father Ren turned his face ever-so-slightly to the left, to look at her through hooded eyes. She inclined her chin in response, not acknowledging him with her stare, but rather tempting him by raising her face to God. 

_I am holy. I am sacred. I am His, but can I also be Yours?_

“I have met a man, Father,” she went on, “a holy man. He has completely enraptured me, and I often find myself getting lost in a mental fog made from thoughts of him. I confess, even whilst observing the sacrament, my mind and my body were devoted only to him.”

Father Ren’s voice was low and gravelly; but the way it sounded against the wooden interior of the confessional made Rey’s legs tremble. 

“Would you give your body to this holy man, if he requested it?”

“I have,” she said, in a high, clear voice. With one tug at the drawstring, her cape fell away from her shoulders, and the warm light of the hallway reflected off her silken gown, casting her in white gold. 

“And I would do it again.”

She watched in rapturous delight as his throat worked to swallow, his jaw clenched in anticipation. Those eyes, so magnetic in their dark beauty, trailed down her chest, lured by the way the silk flowed over her skin like water. They followed the tempting swell of her breast, sparkling with desire from out of the shadows which had thrown themselves over his face. But there was still restraint there; hesitation, brought on by the reservations of the very faith which he served.

She would soon fix that.

“Am I going to go to Hell, Father?” She queried innocently.

“No,” came the grumbled reply, “far from it.”

“What shall be my penance?” 

There was silence from his end, for a short moment that seemed to stretch on for an impossibly long time until, finally, he spoke.

“I’m afraid that deciding on a punishment for this particular crime will require some creativity on my part,” he explained calmly, “and a certain amount of rule-breaking.”

“Oh…” Rey trembled. 

She heard the creak of the wooden seat in the chamber next to hers, some shuffling, and then nothing. Her heart began to race, and she felt heat spike her blood.

“Father…?” she called out.

The curtain before her swept aside to reveal him, and made her gasp. He entered the small chamber with her, filling it entirely, forcing her to remain seated and still, her back flush with the wall.

He was so large and so dominating in that moment, she almost felt claustrophobic. His energy made her head spin.

He was looking down at her through darkened eyes, his chest heaving under the pressure of restraint.

“Stand,” he ordered.

She did so. Their bodies were flush together, their lips mere inches apart. Yet he did not dip his head to kiss her. 

Instead, he looked her over hungrily, and allowed himself to run his fingertips along the curve of her shoulder, pausing briefly to pluck at the thin strap of her dress. His touch was like the careful lick of a flame — tempting, and nearly too hot.

She didn’t speak, but nor did he. She was afraid if she tried, any sentiment would come out choked and muffled. She could feel her apprehension building in her chest and crawling up her throat.

When next he touched her, it once again left her feeling bereft, and she couldn’t decipher if that was his intention or not. 

His fingers danced fleetingly along the cool gold-plated cross which hung from her necklace and rested in its sanctuary at the hollow base of her throat.

“Did you come here just to tempt me?” He asked, finally looking into her eyes with all the intensity he could muster.

Rey could feel the judgemental eyes of the Church upon her, waiting for her answer. At first it made her feel an anxious weight in her stomach. But then she realized, as Father Ren’s hand traced the seam of her dress, lying to a priest was sinful, too. And she wouldn’t dare lie to this one.

“Is it working?” She answered.

A smirk came and went upon his face in a flash. He tilted his noble, dark head to the side and fixed her with an analytical stare that made her feel as though she was already naked. How could she hide anything from this man, when he looked at her like he already knew everything about her?

“What do you want?” He whispered, his voice a gravelly rumble, like thunder on the horizon. 

Rey swallowed and inclined her proud chin, regaining her sense of composure, to the best of her abilities. 

“You,” she answered, once again taking care to tell the whole truth. “All of you.”

His stare was like obsidian smoke. It clouded her head and made her feel fuzzy and breathless, but she couldn’t look away. Not even as he got closer and closer, and all she could feel, smell, and taste was him. She held her ground, even though she wasn’t completely certain she still had her feet under her.

So close, when he spoke his lips nearly brushed against hers; his breath poured out hot and delicate over her mouth. 

“You will sit, upon this sinner’s bench, and you will recite a prayer for me,” he told her, using his fingers to nudge her backwards until her knees buckled and she fell down onto the bench.

She swallowed in an attempt to push her heart out of her throat, and asked, “Which prayer?”

He knelt down as he replied, and loosened his pristinely white collar, a wicked smirk on his freckled face.

“Oh, let’s start with an Act of Contrition,” he answered. “And, if you make it through that, then you can say as many Hail Mary’s as it takes for you to come.” 

The irony of this was obviously not lost on him, but rather, he appeared to get a perverse sense of arousal from it. This didn’t bother Rey one bit. She answered his comment with a knowing smile and a dreamy whisper.

“How blasphemous of you, Father…”

Rey couldn’t help jumping just a little when she felt his warm hands travel up her thighs, hiking up the skirt of her dress as they went. Just one of his hands could nearly wrap itself around her thigh; the size of him, and the way his fingertips pressed into her skin, made her feel wonderfully dizzy. His touch sent a delicious shiver throughout her body and once he began to kiss her flesh, and lay his tongue upon her, she felt like she was melting into the velveted bench. 

“I don’t hear praying…”

His taunting voice rumbled between her legs, and made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She allowed her eyes to flutter closed and tilted her head back, parting her lips to oblige him.

“M-my God, I am sorry for my sins with all my — _ahh_ — my heart,” she began. “In choosing to do wrong, and failing to — _mmmm-oh_ — to do right, I have sinned against you…”

“Mm...good...keep going,” Father Ren moaned against her and doubled-up his efforts, forcing her to arch her back and ensnare her fingers in his hair.

So she did. She barely made it through the whole thing and it was a relatively short prayer, all things considered. It was punctuated by an electrifying orgasm, which made her body twitch and tremble in ways she couldn’t hope to control. When she finished, having nearly screamed the final few words, he lifted his wet mouth away from her and smiled crookedly.

“Good...you’re so good,” he panted. 

He raised himself up into a higher kneeling position, coating her in his shadow. 

There were those stormy eyes again, she thought. So dark and full of electricity. Their gaze scorched her, and left her feeling flushed. These were not the same soft, brown eyes which looked reverently out at the congregation at Sunday Mass. They almost didn’t even look human, but in the most mystifying way…

“Now,” he purred, ducking his head to steal a fiery kiss. “Say Hail Mary.”

She could feel his hand slipping down below her stomach; his fingers drumming enticingly along her flesh. She swallowed hard, angling her hips towards his encroaching hand, eager to feel those large hands touching her again — touching her _there_.

“I don’t think I ca—”

His middle finger sunk deep inside of her in an instant. He had his hand cupped against her, and she let out an involuntary moan at the sudden contact. Still sensitive from her orgasm, her upper body jolted forwards until her nose touched his chest and she could smell only him. Pine, leather, and musk…

“You _will_ say it.” He ordered.

Automatically, she responded. 

“Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee,”

His finger began to work at her, preparing her. Her short fingernails left pink scrapes up his shoulder blades. 

“...Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed be thy - thy fruit of thy wo-womb…”

“Don’t...stop,” he growled, low and strangled, in her ear. 

Carefully, expertly, he began using two fingers. His shoulders shook as he picked up his speed and coaxed her walls with his touch.

“ _Ahhhh_ ….Jesus!” She exclaimed. “H-Holy Mary Mother of God...I c-can’t, I’m coming—”

“Finish!” He snarled, leaving heated kisses and bites down her dampened throat.

“P-pray for us sinners now a-at... _mmm_ ...at the hour-r of o-our... _oh, God, yessss—_!”

She was still panting and quivering whilst he undid his belt and pants. He could wait no longer, it seemed, and she was fine with that.

“Now it’s my turn,” he grinned.

 

_act ii: the reckoning_

 

Rey was seated on that same bench outside St. Mary’s now, long after the sun had set, thinking back to that night. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out why Father Ren cooled off so quickly afterwards and dismissed her so rudely. 

 _You need to leave_ , he’d told her. _Please, see yourself out._

Well, she was about to find out the answer, whether he wanted to tell her or not.

There were three parishioners praying silently in the church. She could tell by the way they looked at her as she walked by that she had far too unfavourable an expression for the setting. She didn’t care. _Let them know I’m here for a reason,_ she thought to herself. _I hope their eyes follow me all the way to his office._

The door was open. He was at his desk, his long nose pointed downwards at the logbook he was writing in. He had a pair of black-rimmed glasses on. She didn’t know he wore glasses.

She stalled in the hallway for a brief moment, to look at him. There was a tiny part of her that wanted to turn around, afraid that she could ruin everything by confronting him. But Rey was nothing if not determined. She had come for answers, and she wouldn’t leave until she had them.

“Father Ren,” she said, loudly and clearly. “I need to speak to you.” 

His head raised slowly, but his expression was blank. Maybe there was the hint of pleasant surprise in the middle of his brow. Or maybe it was nervousness.

Either way, he gestured at the open chair on the other side of his desk.

“Come in,” he requested, “sit. And close the door, please.”

She did as he asked, although with stiffer legs than she intended. Her eyes skirted over the top of his desk and she tried not to remember what they had done there. Here. In his office.

She stared coolly at him, as expressionless as he was. 

“What is it that’s been bothering you?” He asked. There was something odd in his voice. Restraint, perhaps?

“You,” she answered calmly. 

She took a little joy in seeing his eyebrows rise up over the rims of his glasses. And yet, she felt annoyed at the same time, because she could see the faint twitching at the corner of his mouth. If he was just entertaining her, well, Rey did not think she was above kicking a priest in the shin.

“Me?” He said, perfectly innocent. “Did I do something to offend you?”

Now it was Rey’s turn to look shocked. Her mouth fell open and she found herself stammering for a second. He knew why she was here! Surely he wasn’t that obtuse. 

“Did—I can’t—yes, you offended me!” 

And just like that, Rey was raising her voice to a Catholic priest.

“That night, after the confessional, when you told me to leave and left me alone, feeling cheap and used and _horrible_!” 

Now his face really fell. A shadow passed over his eyes and lingered there, like a mask made of discomfort and guilt. _Good_ , she thought. _I want him to feel it._

“Oh,” he said, and she could have reached across and slapped him for it. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“You’re _sorry_?” Rey repeated. “That’s it?”

“...I’m not sure what it is you want me to say—”

“I want you to tell me why!” She snapped. “Why? Did I do something? Was it not good enough? Because it seemed you enjoyed it just _fine_.”

“Please, keep your voice down.”

“Tell me why, and I won’t have you kicked out of this church like you were kicked out of your last one.” Rey snarled.

“That’s the reason why,” he answered, somewhat pitifully.

“Excuse me?”

“I did what I did to you because I had a sudden realization that I was allowing my past to overcome me. The same thing that got me discharged from the Order.”

“You...you’ve slept with members of your congregation before…?” Rey felt sick at the thought.

“No! I haven’t!”

 An odd, growling rumble emanated from his chest and he pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The flesh of his throat above his collar was turning red. 

“You need to explain, _right now_ , or I am going to leave,” Rey said in a hushed and shaky voice.

Father Ren’s hand cane slamming down onto his desk, making a sharp noise so loud it seemed to reverberate around the room. Rey jumped in her seat, a shock of fear shooting up her spine.

 _“Don’t!”_ He yelled as he did it, his eyes suddenly red, glassy, and wild. 

“Please don’t leave…” he begged, much softer. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I would never hurt you, and I feel awful that I made you feel so upset. Truly, I do. But there’s something...something you don’t know. Something I didn’t want you to know, so I pushed you away—”

“What is it?” 

A thousand emotions crossed that pallid face in a flash, but in the end, his brown eyes were sad and pained. Rey felt a twinge of guilt for wanting to slap him a moment ago.

He sighed, and begun his story.

“I was an exorcist. Of course, I saw some of the darkest, most horrific things you couldn’t even imagine in your wildest nightmares. I dealt in that darkness; in demons, and the Devil. I immersed myself in it. And that darkness, perhaps inevitably, left permanent scars on my soul. It became a part of me. It marked me, so to speak, and so it follows me everywhere I go. 

“It made me lose my faith. I still don’t think I’ve fully regained it, either. The restrictions imposed upon men and women in my profession meant less to me. They were simply rules to break, and I wanted desperately to annihilate them. The darkness that’s still with me manifests as a propensity to sin.”

It felt as though the room had gotten ten degrees colder, and dropping fast. Rey’s heart was beating at a feverish pace in her chest. She was suddenly very, _very_ aware that they were in a church, more so than ever before. Every tick of the clock was a strike against her in God’s eyes; the walls loomed in as though to crush her, slowly, and righteously. 

And there was a scream, a silent scream, somewhere in the back of the room, telling her to get out; _GET OUT!_ But she could not move. For he was looking at her so closely, and so gently; like the docile lamb in the flock, fresh born into a coat of night, searching for a mother in the sea of light which had rejected him. 

Rey thought he looked like a fallen angel. This triggered a reaction in her, and a name crossed her mind like an absent piece of driftwood on the ocean.

_Lucifer._

“I came here to try and remedy that,” he explained. “I came here to realign myself in God’s grace. And maybe I thought it would be some kind of penance; getting back to serving an entire community, day and night. But then you showed up and...and…” He trailed off and sighed, defeated.

“I...I need you to know I would never hurt you,” he urged. “I’ve never hurt anyone I cared about.”

“But you have hurt people?”

“No! I mean, not like that,” 

He sighed, tearing his fingers through his hair as he did so. When next he looked at her, wetness glimmered in his eyes, flooding them. She decided, in some far, detached corner of her mind, that he had never looked more unearthly and beautiful than he did in that moment. 

“I-I’m sorry; I don’t know how to explain this in a way that would be easy for you to understand,” he whimpered. 

“I understand.”

This clearly shocked him, and it had much the same effect on her, though she stifled her reaction far more successfully. She hadn’t expected her voice to sound so clear and even. 

But the initial shock had subsided; now there was just numbness and dull confusion.

“You...you do?” 

“Yes,” She looked him straight in the eye. “Are you the Devil?”

He looked as though she’d struck him. All the colour faded from his face; like a flower curling up and dying at rapid speed. 

Rey feared his answer deeply. Her hands trembled like leaves in her lap, fingernails cutting into the soft flesh of her palms.

 _“No,”_ he whispered. “I need you to believe me.”

“A demon, then?”

His full lips worked off of each other, trembling and tightening as he searched for the words. 

“I don’t know,” he murmured, as quiet as a frightened child, and tears sprung to his eyes as he voiced his doubt aloud. 

“I know I’ve looked into a demon’s eyes during an exorcism; I know I see them all around me, even now; I know I’ve felt their touch burn my flesh in my sleep. But I don’t know if I am one of them, or if I’ve only been marked by them, or if this is something entirely different.”

Rey tried to imagine it. Jagged black horns, curling out from either side of his princely head. Eyes of jet, oily and depthless. Great, leathery wings that filled the room and rustled like a terrible wind through a forest of trees…

He couldn’t be a demon, she thought to herself. He is too beautiful, and his crimes were those of passion, not destruction. So does that make him a misguided angel?

But she didn’t speak this aloud, for demons were clever beings.

“What makes you think that?” She asked, trying to keep her voice even, although her shoulders trembled.

His eyes were sad, impossibly so, and shadowed in suffering. No demonic creature could hold that much emotion in their expression. That was _real_. And it hurt her just as much as the alternative would have to know that, and to see it up-close.

“I just know,” he murmured, exhausted. “And I also know I cannot continue to be a priest and serve God when I feel such dark desires as often as I do. It was a mistake to think I could realign myself in the light after so many years dealing in the dark.” 

“Is that what you want?” She asked. “To leave this life behind?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I want so many things,”

“Like what?”

His face lit up for the first time when next he looked her way; those tormented eyes twinkled like the night sky, and there was even a childish wonder to his expression that stunned her.

“Like you,” he answered softly. “I want you. I’ve always felt like I needed to find the place where I belong but that I could never quite track it down, until I found you. And then I realized the ‘place’ I was looking for wasn’t a place at all; it was a person. It was you. When we were together, I had nothing else to worry about. Nothing else mattered to me even half as much.

“But I’ve wronged you. I lied, and I let my selfishness get in the way of my reality, which is that I can’t ever have you.”

Tears poured hot down her cheeks, and she wasn’t even sure when she’d started crying. 

“Why?” She asked, and she tried not to let her voice tremble, but she failed.

“Because,” he growled, and that softness in his expression dissipated, replaced with an icy cold shadow. “Even now I can feel it: an urge to claim you. And I’m afraid of it; I’m afraid to give in because I don’t know what I might do to you. This darkness, these demons...they’re more powerful than I am.  I can hear their voices whispering to me, and they all sound like sin.

“I want them to stop chattering. I need a distraction, Rey. That’s been my problem this whole time, and I feel awful because you should be _more_ than that. But I just feel a need to self-sabotage and the only thing that works is _sinning._ ”

This frightened Rey. Her eye caught his fist tightening around his pen atop his desk before he hid it self-consciously underneath, and that alone was enough to make her want to run. He could overpower her quite easily, if he decided he wanted to. She had never before felt unsafe in his presence until this moment, and the realization made her heart sink.

But if she was sure of herself, and also of his ability to overcome, she had to be without any shred of doubt.

“Are you going to, then? Claim me?” she asked, straightening her spine.

“I don’t know,” He shook his head slowly, calculating. “I’d like to.”

 _Like Hades claimed Persephone,_ Rey thought absently.

“If this excites you, why do you always seem so distant afterward? Is it because we’ve sinned in a house of God, or does that not actually bother you?”

“It does and it doesn’t,” he answered in a lilting, almost bored, tone. “The part of me that studied the Bible, all the words of the heavens, for years — that part cares, and is deeply afraid, but also insignificant. The part of me that was burnt by hellfire, the exorcist — that part is overpowering, and it’s exhilarated by it.”

He waved his hand in the air before his face, as if shooing away a pestering fly. 

“If I seemed distant afterwards, it was only because I was trying to deny myself of my deepest, most carnal instincts — to deny myself of _you_ ,” he explained. “I could lose everything. Honestly, I’m afraid of what might happen if...if…”

Rey’s heart was hammering in her chest. The walls of his office seemed to be inching closer and closer, and she tried to calculate how many steps there were between her and the door if she ran.

“If what?” She prompted.

“If I give in,” he explained, lusting eyes tracking the shuddering rise and fall of her breast. “If I let myself do... _all_ the things I want to do with you, for you...to you.”

Despite all of the uncertainty and fear, Rey felt a familiar warmth blossom between her legs as he growled those last two words. Despite _everything_ , he still had a staggering effect on her physically. She couldn’t quite understand it. She squirmed just a little in the seat, rocking her hips side to side, trying to make the sensation go away. It only made it worse.

“Like what…?” Her voice was but a whisper. Her throat wouldn’t open enough to allow vocal tone. She could feel this tension in her chest, like each of her lungs were being poured full of concrete, and it was overflowing quickly up her esophagus.

He grinned slowly, wolfishly. The lights of his office caught the gold chain of his crucifix about his neck, and the bright, flashing reflection of it caught Rey’s eye, blinding her for brief little moments in time. She could see fireworks popping off behind her eyelids; several all at once, overlapping one another, fading away into various shifting shades of yellows, purples, and blues.

As he leaned over his desk towards her, still smiling, the gilded cross swung freely forwards into the open air. Rey watched it, entranced by the way it shone and the way it swung — so precisely straight, like someone she couldn’t see was holding onto the end of it. Her heart fluttered anxiously in her chest and she felt a strong and inexplicable urge to rip the cross from his neck.

“I really shouldn’t say,” the priest answered. “And I don’t think you really want to know.”

 _He is nothing to fear,_ she told herself firmly. _Remember the way he looked at you during Mass. Remember that tenderness, that humanity…_

She straightened, and felt her determination fill her lungs like a strong perfume.

“Maybe I don’t,” she replied, “or maybe those things don’t matter.”

He didn’t have a response to this. Instead he waited, perfectly patient as any priest could be.

“Maybe…” 

The answer came to her in a split second. It crawled in through some crack in the back of her mind and whispered faintly into her ear. 

He wasn’t completely gone, only lost. If she could muffle those dark thoughts of his, and replace them with something much lighter and real, she could guide him back.

She stood, and though her knees trembled at first, she found the ability to walk around his desk until she was next to his chair. He turned and looked up at her, and she wasn’t certain if it was shock or excitement stirring in his eyes.

“I will help you,” she purred, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I sin, too. You know this. But I’ve never felt this urge, this strong force that seems to guide me, until you. I know how you feel, Father.”

“Rey…” he breathed.

“Though my lust far outweighs your darkness.”

Her lips rolled off of his slowly; languishing in the soft fullness of them. She was eager to deepen the kiss, but unsure of his true emotion. Is this what he wants, or is he too troubled? He certainly wasn’t frozen. 

Soon enough, however, he was reaching for her face, his fingers combing through the hair along the side of her head, guiding her closer to him. The tip of his tongue was hot as it caressed her lower lip, silently and smoothly begging her to open her mouth up for him. She did so quickly, as her hand fell to his groin, getting closer to that familiar bulge between his legs that she has craved unceasingly for months. 

There was a sharp knock on his office door that caused both their hearts to seize in their chests. Rey jumped off of him as though burnt, and leapt back several paces to the nearest wall, where she stood half in shadow and stared out at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“Father Ren?”

The kind and gentle voice of Father Thomas was normally a calming one for his parishioners, but not on this night. Rey felt her stomach churn threateningly and the room swam before her; the inside of her mouth felt like it was coated in a thick, acrid layer of dust. She didn’t know if she was going to vomit, faint, choke, or some humiliating combination of the three.

Father Ren cleared his throat and adjusted himself, refusing to leave his chair and stand.

“Come in,” he beckoned, his voice barely shaking.

The door opened and Father Thomas poked his grey head in. He looked puzzled, but unconcerned. 

“Oh, it’s only you. I thought I heard a second voice in here just a few moments ago…”

“Um…”

Ren’s eyes flickered over to Rey and she suddenly remembered that she was not, in fact, a fly on the wall. Swiftly, she patted down her dress skirt and slapped a tenuous smile on her face. 

Father Thomas followed Ren’s stare and gave a small jump of surprise. His wiry eyebrows shot up, and then that puzzled expression returned.

“Rey! My dear, lovely to see you. But what are you doing here so late?”

Rey hadn’t been prepared to answer any questions. She tried not to allow her panic to register on her face, though she felt entirely unsuccessful. 

“I...uh—” she stammered.

“Sorry, Father,” Ren interjected, having noticed her struggling. “Rey and I were discussing how best to conquer personal demons, and I’m afraid we lost track of time.” 

“Ah,” Father Thomas nodded knowingly. “That is quite the lengthy conversation to have. But, who better to have with with than a trained Exorcist, isn’t that the truth?”

He smiled at Rey like he expected her to laugh at his witty remark, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She wasn’t even sure she could force a smile any longer. Suddenly she didn’t know what she should be doing, or saying. Nothing felt quite right.

“Are you alright, child?” Father Thomas inquired, his expression now serious. “You look flushed…”

“I’m sorry,” Rey blurted out. She could take it no more, and quickly she crossed the room for the exit, averting the gaze of either priest.

“I’m afraid I’m just a little extra troubled tonight…” she muttered on her way out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between parts!!! I got caught up in this chapter and struggled with it a bit but I'm happy to have it finished! One more to go...surprise ;)
> 
> Also, some things may not be *entirely* accurate or up-to-date in terms of the religious practices/verses, but. I tried my best. please don't come for me, catholics
> 
>  
> 
> [Twitter.](https://www.twitter.com/reyloghosts)  
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